


Broken Wing

by d_aia



Series: Birds [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Hood: Lost Days, Under the Red Hood
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Gen, Off-screen death, Original Character(s), POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-31 19:26:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13981737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/d_aia/pseuds/d_aia
Summary: Erika blinks. “I was waiting for you to discover your answer, Tony,” she says in a light voice. “Since it was contained in your question, it shouldn’t have taken long.”*The Bat Family and friends know how to deal with a bad day.





	Broken Wing

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the universe (and characters, locations, personal histories etc as are shown in them). This is the work of fanfiction.
> 
> Warnings: Dealing with grief, especially dissociation, but not limited to it. 
> 
> Thanks & Acknowledgements: To Lex, for the effort and dedication--thank you!
> 
> A/N: The story takes place in a murky future, where Jason still has his fingers in the drug pie, has a set territory in Gotham (more like, a couple of streets), and goes on missions with Artemis and Bizzaro. He also outright states that he has been in Arkham and Blackgate. But none of this is known to the POV character. She'll find out some, but not nearly everything there is to know. Oh, and the stories should be read in order. If you're okay with that, then enjoy! :D

Erika blinks. Her hearing has become funny. Inside her head is white noise. She takes a deep breath. And comes back. 

“I was waiting for you to discover your answer, Tony,” Erika says in a light voice. “Since it was contained in your question, it shouldn’t have taken long.”

Tony’s eyes are sharp—he sees through her story easily—but he smiles and plays along. “Alas…” he trails off, mock-despondent.

“That’s how you’re going to play it? Okay, okay, I can work with that.” Erika is going a bit off script here, but sometimes humor is a good idea. In this case, for everybody. “Let’s play ‘bingo.’” She pauses. “Only for those who want to—three columns and three rows. Winner gets to ask a question.”

The reporters are laughing as they write down things she’s likely to say. Thankfully, they all chose to participate and no one looks at her worriedly. Now, she has to get through this without spacing some more and she’s clear.

Easier said than done.

Just as her thoughts are banging on the door they are locked behind, the reporters raise their eyes, their pens posed.

“Is it time for a statement?” Erika asks wryly.

“Go,” Lik says dramatically.

“Mr. Drake-Wayne is innocent. The picture Mr. Groh gave the press is taken on a public street and since—”

“Bingo!” Jules shouts.

Erika nods and continues, “Since photography is a well-known hobby of Mr. Drake-Wayne, we fully expect the accusations to be dismissed.” She tilts her head. “What did you have, Jules?”

“I got a bit tricked by ‘innocent.’” Jules glares. “There are too many things you could have said there. But I got ‘Mr. Drake-Wayne,’ ‘public street,’ and the words”—she chokes back a laugh—“‘and since.’” She offers a sheepish smile.

Tony’s palm hits his forehead.

“Nicely done.” Erika’s voice is full of unveiled humor. “Can we have your question?”

Jules has it prepared. “Is Todd-Wayne dating anyone?”

“No comment,” Erika answers.

Lik boos in good humor.

“I said she can ask a question, answering was never in the cards,” Erika defends herself, laughter clear in her tone.

Jules pouts.

“Thank you,” Erika sing-songs.

*

“Erika?”

Erika jumps and spins around. “Mr. Wayne?” She was staring out her office’s wall of windows without seeing anything. Again.

“Am I still Mr. Wayne?”

Erika lightly shakes her head. “Bruce.” She’s really out of it.

Bruce studies her with that intense gaze. “Jason said you have something want to show me.”

“Yes, I have it right here.” Erika heads for her desk. She starts rifling through the folders on it.

“You have it on your desk.”

“Sure.”

Bruce disapproves. It’s not something in particular he does and Erika is not looking at him. But it’s like it seeps out of his pores.  

“Is there a lazy thief I should be concerned about?” Erika asks. “I have excellent security around my office, which I’m very thankful for, but it also makes me reconsider where to put the folders I don’t want people to see. The first thing they’d go for is my safe.” She finds what she’s looking for. “Here you go.”

“No matter what Poe says, I still don’t like it,” Bruce says and takes the folder. “Can I read it here?”

“Understood and of course.” Erika gestures around the room. “My office is your office. Literally.”

“What am I looking at?” Bruce asks once he has chosen the couch.

“Information I got from the alphabet soup about the drugs moving into Gotham.”

“With colored tabs, spreadsheets, and charts?” Bruce’s voice is incredulous.

“Were you expecting a stamp that said ‘confidential’? Or maybe the need to use a black light?”

Bruce ignores her. “You have a system.”

“Pardon me?”

“It’s not the first time you’ve done this.”

“No,” Erika answers simply.

“It means that you will do it again.”

“Probably.”

“That’s why it’s not safe,” Bruce finishes.

Erika isn’t impressed. “Just because I did it before doesn’t mean I showed it to anybody.”

“Ah.” Bruce looks up, a smile playing on his lips. “It’s a good system,” he reluctantly admits.

“This is no different from any of my presentations,” Erika agrees.

“And you’ll keep doing it regardless of what I say.”

Erika lifts a shoulder. “Don’t act like you didn’t think of another five security measures to put around my office.”

“Ten. Before I sat down,” Bruce quips. “And those are just around your floor.”

Suppressing an eye roll, Erika feels her spirits lift a bit.

_Bats._

“This is bad,” Bruce mumbles as he reads.

“It is and it isn’t.”

Bruce looks at her, frowns, and goes back to reading. He’s going to be a while. Erika’s attention drifts.

“I understand what you meant.”

Erika startles and tries to remember what they were talking about. “Good.”

And yes, Bruce studies her again. His eyes have that intent focus to them, but he lets her off the hook once more. “You’re saying that if we can outlast this surge, the drugs entering our city will plummet to an all-time low.”

“That was my conclusion after the information I received, but…” Erika trails off. _How do I say this?_ “It’s never been done before. All of it is simply theoretical. There’s proof that the drug trafficking in this city is in the throes of death and that this is its final thrashing, but, you have to understand, it’s the first city where this happens. They—and we—can’t know any of the consequences.”

Bruce leans back to take her in. “There’s no cause stated here.”

“They didn’t give one. Once again, it’s never been seen before. And I’m no expert.”

“I’m not asking for expertise, you already said no one knows, I am asking for an opinion.”

“Authorities in Gotham have developed a system of working with the vigilantes which may be the answer,” Erika says. It’s not even a lie.

“The system has been in place for many years but the needle hasn’t moved much.”

“Still.”

“Fine.” But Bruce isn’t planning on letting this go. “What else?”

Erika hesitates and then, knowing that she can’t put off _freaking Batman_ forever, she says, “I think it’s Red Hood.”

Bruce clenches his jaw.

“He eliminates competition, puts limits on whom they’re allowed to sell to, takes a part of their profits, and uses the money against them,” Erika says. “The only problem with that is if he—and his organization—is the only thing standing between what we’re trying to become and what we were, then it can easily be overturned.”

“By killing him.”

“Or simply waiting for him to die, if they’re that hard up.”

“In the meantime, leaving us with all the drug demand that isn’t fulfilled.” Bruce sighs and rubs his forehead.

“There will still be small time dealing, but yes, precisely,” Erika says. “This, though, is like getting a breath of fresh air that most cities don’t get. And they aren’t even as deep as we used to be. He offered us the opportunity to change something, now it’s in our hands.”

Bruce nods, apparently deep in thought. “How do you think this will go?”

“You may want to be thinking about making rehab institutions or affordable programs, or maybe hire some experts and decide on a series of steps that can be put into place at a large scale,” Erika suggests.  

“That one’s almost a done deal,” Bruce says.

“You should definitely consider lobbying to legalize marijuana so that it will become a controlled substance and cut the head of the snake.”

A brief scowl appears on Bruce’s face, but he nods.

“But I don’t really know; this is _not_ my area. I have my opinion, but that only goes so far.” Erika takes a deep breath. “Now, if you tell me what you want to do, the solutions you want to implement,  I can control how they are perceived. That is what I’m good at. Simply put, say what you want me to sell and it will be sold.”

“Of that I am certain,” Bruce says decisively. He looks at the folder. “This is it, right?”

Erika would like to pretend she doesn’t know what he’s talking about, but they both know the continued struggle to get their Gothamites off of drugs. So instead she says, “I believe so, yes.”

“At least we know.” Bruce closes the folder and puts it next to him. “Now, what’s going on with you?”

Erika stills, taken aback. The white noise makes a comeback. “I…,” she tries.

Bruce waits.

“I’ve had a really bad week,” Erika admits quietly and doesn’t say anything more.

*

A knock at her door makes Erika start, surprised. “Come in.”

“I’m taking you home,” Tim announces.

Erika frowns. “Take me back five steps and explain your reasoning.”

Tim is a genius. Erika is not mocking him, he truly is. Because of that, however, he had peculiarities and among them is assuming everyone has reached the same conclusion he has. They usually haven’t, but, if asked, he’s usually good about explaining his thought process.

“Bruce doesn’t do emotions. He mentioned to Lucius your space-outs. Lucius already noticed because he _has eyes._ I think everybody knows—this is the first time I saw you being less than 100% at a press conference.” Tim is speaking in a flat tone, but, boy, does it contain great quantities of sass. “Anyway, Tam heard about it from Lucius and offered me volunteer. The end.”

Well, that’s not good.

“This coming from someone who hasn’t been 100% since I knew him.”

Tim doesn’t dignify her dig with a response. He doesn’t have to; she knows he doesn’t need to be to outthink everyone. Still, she thinks some sleep wouldn’t be too bad for his health, and since they are crossing boundaries, why not?

“I’m taking you home,” Tim repeats.

Erika looks at her watch. It’s eleven past two. “I still have work to do.” There must be something; there always is.

“No, you don’t. Not like that. You’re distracted.”

Now, Erika can’t hope to reach the same level of incredulity from a single word like the Waynes can—she tried it until the word ‘really,’ has lost its meaning—so she asked flatly instead, “Is that so?”

“When your work gets affected—”

Erika opens a picture on her tablet and shows it to him.

“…Who took that?”

“Damian.”

On the screen, Tim has just realized he is going to fall because what he thought was a normal jump between buildings is actually him being sleep deprived and jumping off of the Wayne Manor Balcony. He was going to go on patrol. The only reason he’s not wearing his suit was that he _forgot_ to put it on. His face, though, is hilarious.

Erika also found out that Dick caught him, which is why she feels fine with showing him the picture.

“He lives to make my days hell,” Tim says from behind clenched teeth.

“Maybe I just have one of those faces.”

“Trusting?”

“Sadistic.”

Tim nods. “That I can believe, but I don’t see how that disproves my theory.”

“I bring it out in people.”

“Damian doesn’t need you for that.” Tim takes another look at the picture. “Just in case though, I’m going to be watching you too,” he warns. “Come on.”

*

“This isn’t the way.”

The car loses speed, and Tim’s eyes flick to their surroundings. “Of course, it is.”

But Erika knows this isn’t the way to her apartment. “Where are you taking me then?”

“Where every hurt bird in Gotham comes,” Tim answers with a smile. “Wayne Manor.”

*

Erika blinks. They blink back. Between the two groups, Alfred sighs.

It’s a whirlwind, full of Wayne’s sassiness at its best, but the Waynes finally got that she was sent to calm her ass down on the bench. That was when Dick, all smiles, suggested movies and ice cream, and, since no one seemed likely to contradict him, got his way. So Erika finds herself bundled in front of a… well, she guesses one can call it a TV. It has more inches than is decent, but, hey, they managed earlier to extract the information that she’s partial to old French comedies, and that’s what they’re watching.

Erika is grateful, but it’s almost too much. She’s had this before—times when she hates to be alone but doesn’t want to be surrounded by people; when she can’t take speaking, but her thoughts are awful; when she can’t stop, but she’s bone tired. So, when she sees the boys intrigued at her choice and focusing on the movie, she makes her escape under the guise of going for ice cream.

“What are you doing here?” Erika asks, surprised.

Selina, who was looking through the freezer, straightens with a tub of Neapolitan ice cream. “The same thing as you.”

“I doubt that,” Erika says, looking at the rows of diamonds that Selina’s wearing, diamonds that Erika is pretty sure Selina stole, most probably from the Waynes. “I’m looking for the ice cream; you found it and have a surplus of ice.”

“But they fit me so well,” Selina purrs.

Erika snorts. “Sure.” She sees that the tub has its seal broken. “Somebody’s probably eating that.”

“I know.” Selina wears a mischievous expression like she was born to do so. “That’s half the fun.” She probably was.

Suppressing an eye-roll and wondering if she’ll ever understand Selina, Erika goes to the freezer. “Are you staying?”

“I could be persuaded,” Selina answers slyly.

“Help me with the ice cream then.”

“My, my, so forceful.” Selina chuckles. She opens her arms and declares, “Go on.”

Feeling a million times better already, Erika shakes her head and starts collecting tubs of different flavors. “Why are you are here, Selina?”

“I heard,” Selina says quietly making Erika freeze. “I wanted to check up on my dove.”

Erika puts the tubs in Selina’s arms. “I’m dealing. You didn’t have to come.” She takes the strawberry away while looking at the diamonds again. “This is not like you.”

“I failed so badly as a friend that you are surprised by a visit?” Selina asks with her usual drama and copious amounts of seduction, but Erika can see Selina’s hurt.

Damn it.

“I see you as my family and you didn’t fail.” Erika makes eye contact until she’s sure her message is received. “That’s not what I meant anyway.”  She takes the chocolate and puts the strawberry back in Selina’s arms.

Selina looks down and her eyes take on the light of comprehension. “These are just keeping Bruce on his toes.”

Taking the last flavor out of the freezer, mint, Erika makes a face while reviewing that sentence. “Bruce?!”

“Mmhmm.”

“Why would you…” Erika stops after putting back the chocolate in Selina’s arms and taking the Neapolitan. “You know.”

Selina offers a Cheshire grin. “I find it much more interesting that _you_ do.”

“I sort of felt stupid when I found out. Who else would be? _Could_ be?” Erika closes the freezer and, following Selina’s gestured directions, takes some paper towels and spoons. She doesn’t know how the Robins prefer to eat their ice cream, so she hesitates before the bowls. “But at the same time, I understand why I didn’t.” She decides not to go for the bowls in case one breaks. “Does this make sense?”

“Curiously enough it does,” Selina replies, laughing.

They reach the day room—Alfred’s words, not hers—when Selina realizes that she lost her prize. “Where’s the Neapo—That was mine. Give it back,” she whines.

“I outsmarted you fair and square, I get to keep it,” Erika admonishes with a small smile. It’s not often that somebody gets one up on Selina. “Them’s the rules!”

The Robins turn as one.

“Listen,” Selina begins, dumping some of the tubs on the ground so she can gesture more emphatically. “I made that rule, it doesn’t apply to me.” Also, so she can pounce.

“When has that argument ever worked?” Erika asks loftily while wearily taking a few steps back.

Dick dances around the two of them and retrieves the tubs that fell. Somehow Selina has managed to dump them strategically, leaving her keeping a too-tight grip on the milk and chocolate. She has clearly called dibs on them.

But on the plus side, Dick loses no limbs so Tim celebrates Dick’s return with a high-five, and Damian with a grudging, ‘That was adequately done.’

“Well, I’ve got two and you’re not getting any,” Selina tells Erika huffily, as she plants herself in the middle of the couch.

“I don’t like ice cream,” Erika reminds her, only to receive a hiss in return.

“Is something the matter?” Alfred asks reappearing like the ninja he secretly is.

“What are we watching, boys?” Selina asks, making a show of ignoring Erika.

“A titan just fell, Alfred,” Erika replies with the same tiny smile, seeing from the corner of her eye Selina looking pleased. “Whose is the Neapolitan?”

“That would be Master Jason’s,” Alfred says.

“Wait, do you guys know each other?” Jason asks.

“You could say that,” Selina says and laughs. She gestures grandly, changing the subject. “I graciously left you your favorite flavor. Aren’t you grateful?”

Jason looks confused for a second, before shaking his head. “Thank you, Erika!” He receives the tub Erika extends to him with a mischievous wink in Selina’s direction. Turning to Erika, he says, “There’s still place for you.” So she hadn’t fooled Jason.

_What are you going to do?_

“Make room for me against the wall?” Erika asks and Jason shifts some more. “Thanks,” she says as she climbs to sit on the backrest. “This is comfy.”

Jason lifts an eyebrow. “Really?” And she is officially jealous of the one-word question. 

“It is?” Tim asks as he looks at the couch, clearly expecting confirmation.

Erika doesn’t know who is supposed to answer, so she does since she has one, “Most couches don’t have padding on top.”

Damian seems interested. He climbs up and swings a couple of time. “It feels exposed though.”

“Not by the wall,” Erika denies.

Eyes narrowing, Damian admits, “I didn’t take that into consideration.” He looks down at the couch as if he’s never seen it before and swings some more. It looks like he’s having fun.

“My dove finds all kinds of loopholes,” Selina purrs.

“‘Dove?’” Dick asks in his usual carefree manner. “Jason said owl.”

“Perhaps,” Selina allows. “But she’ll always be a dove to me.”

Tim appears curious, and so do the rest of them a second later.

“Selina helped me a lot along the years,” Erika says.

“Now, now, little dove.” Selina moves her finger in a ‘no-no’ motion. “Don’t give me more credit than I deserve.”

Once after Erika had upset a higher up in the mob, twice while she was starving and freezing, once after her rape when Erika’s whole world stopped for about three months, _and_ Selina made sure Erika would work in a high-class place where she could raise the money she needed instead of some street corner.

That was all before Erika turned eighteen.

“I’m not,” Erika decisively tells Selina.

Jason squeezes Erika’s ankle and looks up at her with a smile. Erika isn’t surprised. Jason understands.

“Want some?” Jason asks offering her the tub of ice cream.

Erika lightly shakes her head. “Nope, I really don’t like ice cream.”

Shrugging lightly, Jason digs in.

“What is the snack of your choices then, Ms. Aiza?” Alfred asks. “If you don’t mind sharing that information, that is.”

“Oh, I…” This is awkward. “I don’t think you have it lying around.” And silly. Erika _won’t_ blush.

Alfred straightens and Erika has the distinct impression she just insulted him.

“Not that you are in any way unprepared, it’s just silly,” Erika says hurriedly.

Alfred lifts an eyebrow and she now has the origin of the Wayne sass in front of her. The uncontestable master. Fucking hell!

“Gummy worms,” Erika says quietly. “Both sweet and sour.”

Nodding, Alfred says, “It will take fifteen minutes.” Then he leaves the room.

Erika slumps against the wall, feeling as if she has had a near miss.

“Scary, huh?” Dick asks with a laugh.

“I will make public a picture of Discowing,” Erika threatens.

Dick is unfazed. “What’s one more?”

Damian and Tim choke, while Jason snorts so loudly Erika is half afraid his ice cream is now up his nose. She turns to Selina, who is making a ‘there-there,’ face, and Erika rolls her eyes.

*

“I lost four of my people this week,” Erika announces quietly. She knows she has the room’s attention, and she feels… something powerful, a companionship with people who assume way too much responsibility. She feels profoundly understood. “It’s tough, sometimes, you know?”

Jason squeezes her ankle, Selina smiles, Dick and Tim wear compassionate expressions, and Damian nods.

It’s enough.

Erika snuggles deeper in the blanket she has somehow acquired and selects another worm.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you want to comment (or just talk to me) you can do it here or on my [tumblr](http://e-alexandrescu.tumblr.com/).


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